GRATEFUL HERO INDEPENDENCE DAY
by Kay-nu
Summary: Jim is unable to get the Fourth of July off for the opening of the new Freedom Memorial. He is also faced with having to take care of his father with Blair's help.
1. Chapter 1

Sentinel belongs to other creative people. Originally this story was beta read by Stephanie. I'm not sure if she is still in the fandom. Thanks again to Stephanie who took the time to beta the original story. This is an updated version.

This story is an alternate universe as Blair is a socioeconomic anthropologist attached to the police department as Jim's unpaid partner. He teaches part time and writes books on police and civilian interactions.

GRATEFUL HERO-INDEPENDENCE DAY

Then I heard the voice

Of the Lord saying,

"And who shall go for us?"

And I said, "Here I am.

Send me."-Isaiah 6vs8

(Found on Home page of Army Rangers)

Chapter One—June 30th

"I'm sorry, Jim." Regret and some guilt were on the ebony face of Captain Simon Banks. From behind his gold rimmed glasses he studied the tall silent man standing ramrod straight in front of him. Not only his stance but also his short military style haircut screamed his attachment to his military past.

Icy was the glare from Jim's light blue eyes. "Sir," Detective James Ellison responded coldly. "I always work on Christmas, Thanksgiving and New Year's Eve. Is it so much to ask that I have the Fourth of July off?"

Simon's spine stiffened. He pulled himself up straighter. He was a few inches taller than his best detective. Using his height to his advantage Simon also pulled out his rank. "Unfortunately, Detective Ellison," Simon measured out his words. Any personal feelings had to be shelved. He was the Captain of the Cascade Police Department's Major Crimes. "Detective Anthony Wilson never got the opportunity to ask that drunk driver if he could pass at being slammed into that cement embankment. I need you on the job."

Jim sucked in a sharp gasp of surprise. His icy exterior crumbled. He dropped his eyes. Detective Anthony 'Tony' Wilson had been twenty-eight and extremely well liked. Tony had made it a point to get to know everyone at the PD. Even the uniformed officers that had arrived at the crash scene had known him. When the paramedics had pulled Wilson's broken body out of his smashed car, Sergeant Cantrell a twenty-five year veteran had cried.

Jim was conscious of the heavyweight of the black band on the badge in his inside shirt pocket. "I'm sorry, sir. Of course I'll come in."

Simon inhaled a lung full of air before he could trust himself to speak. "I've split Detective Wilson's caseload between you and Detectives Rafe and Brown."

Jim raised his eyes again. He nodded. "I'll get on them, sir." He seemed to hesitate as though waiting to be dismissed.

"Thanks, Jim." Simon said softly, "If you want to take an extra long lunch on the 4th to visit the Memorial that would be fine. Although if you hadn't blown off your invitation to speak at the opening of the Freedom Memorial you'd be off no matter how shorthanded this department is."

Jim nodded. "Thank you, Simon." He turned to the door. "I don't give speeches, sir." Through the glass door Jim spotted his subdued partner coming into the Major Crimes bullpen. The socioeconomic anthropologist had his curly long hair tamed back into a sever ponytail. Instead of the street grunge look Blair was neatly dressed in dress slacks, white shirt, and a dark sports jacket. He even sported a conservative tie. A black band encircled his right arm. Jim exhaled softly. Tony had been a friend to Blair.

"Simon," Jim rubbed his high forehead. "I know that Sandburg isn't a cop." There were still some in the department that felt that adding an anthropologist as a partner to a detective was a waste.

"Sandburg is as much a part of Major Crimes as anyone else." Simon was looking out at the bullpen. He'd nipped a few problems in the bud for the young man. "He has the right to stand with the rest of the detectives at Tony's funeral."

"Thanks, Simon." Jim stepped out into the bullpen.

"Chief," Jim quietly joined Blair who was sorting papers from his and Jim's caseload.

Blair raised sad eyes. "Tony was a good guy." There was a break in his voice. "This sucks."

"I know, Chief," Jim laid a gentle hand on Blair's shoulder. His fingers were automatically massaging the younger man's shoulder. "You'll be walking with the rest of the detectives from Major Crimes."

Surprise widened in Blair's bright blue eyes. "Is it okay with Simon?" The city council's order to add an anthropologist to the police department in an unpaid position had caused some resentment. The idea that he might be a spy of some sort had almost put Blair on the same level with Internal Affairs. He'd suffered two flat tires and a couple of accidental 'bumps' in the stairwell until Jim had had a 'talk' with a couple of officers.

The ghost of a sad smile passed quickly over Jim's face. "Simon suggested that you stand with the rest of Major Crimes. You are part of Major Crimes even if you have an unpaid position." Jim lifted his suit jacket from the back of his chair. "Wilson's wife, Diana asked that I be a pallbearer." His face was somber. "She's left with two little girls and a baby on the way. I'd like to take a tire iron to the son of bitch who killed Wilson." A muscle jerked in Jim's check as he gritted his teeth.

Inspector Megan Connor stepped into the bullpen. Her eyes were swollen from crying. She nodded greetings to both men. "Sandy, Ellison," grief was in her voice.

"Megan, if you fill a basin with ice cubes and water you can immerse your face to bring down the swelling in your eyes." Blair allowed himself to be gathered into a hug.

"Now how would you know that?" Megan gifted him with the semblance of a smile when she released him from her hug.

"Uh," Blair blushed. "I uh dated an actress a couple of times," he admitted.

"You and table legs, Chief," for a moment they were all smiles.

"Ellison," Brown had a black suit on instead of his usual Hawaiian shirt and casual trousers. "We'd better get going."

In silence all of Major Crimes somberly filed out of the bullpen. Captain Simon Banks in his dress uniform quietly led them towards the elevators.

TBC


	2. Chapter 2

GRATEFUL HERO

It takes a remarkable person

Not just to say a Creed

And memorize a Creed,

But also to live by a Creed

-S. Shughart

Found on the home page of the

Night Stalkers-Army's Special Operations Aviation Regiment

GRATEFUL HERO-Chapter Two-July 1st

"Half the city turned out for Tony's funeral," Blair fingered the black armband on his flannel shirt.

"Sometimes people just show up at funerals just to show up." Jim stared out the truck's windshield. He thought of his father. It bothered him more than he could admit that his father had shown up at Tony's funeral. He'd always managed to keep his father at arms' distance since he'd returned from Peru. Even thought they were working on healing their relationship Jim still didn't want his father showing up around his police friends. His father seemed to be upset that Jim had chosen to be a police officer. Jim shook his thoughts away.

The streetlights were coming on in the wake of the setting sun. Most of the foot traffic in this area of Cascade was either vagrants or the working poor. Poverty bred crime. Jim kept an eye out for any signs of drug dealing or prostitution.

"In Wilson's case it seemed that almost everyone knew him and liked him." Jim shifted his attention back to his younger partner.

"Tony was a good guy," Blair agreed. "I heard some really great stories from people who knew him."

Jim nodded as he stopped for a red light. "Speaking of stories, Chief, one of the young ladies at Tony's funeral mentioned that you were being harassed for wearing the black armband. I know that you want to show your support. You don't have to wear it at school. We all know that you and Tony were friends. You don't have anything to prove.

Blair shrugged trying to play it off. "A couple of the students seemed to think that I had turned into something other than a teacher." Blair had his eyes on a man dressed in faded but neatly pressed army fatigues limping down the street. A duffle bag bumped against his legs as he ambled down the street.

"You mean that they thought that you turned into the Man, a pig," Jim ran through the derogatory names tacked onto police. His light eyes swept the street ahead of them. He frowned as he spotted several teenage boys half hidden behind an enclosed bus stop. It might have been the start of July but it was still cool enough in Cascade for the long black trench coats to be appropriate wear. Still, Jim's frown became thoughtful; there was something about their tense body language. Jim didn't like the hungry/scared looks on their faces. Mental warning bells born of being an experienced officer went off in Jim's head.

Jim's heightened sight zeroed in on the tip of a metal bat that was visible from the bottom edge of one of the boys' long coats. Following their line of sight he realized that they were watching the old man weaving along the sidewalk. Jim's enhanced hearing caught every word of their whispering. His mouth went taut.

"You know how kids are," Blair had heard the tight anger in Jim's voice. Unaware of the drama Jim was watching start to play out Blair's concern was 'calming' his partner and friend down. "It's all right," Blair said lightly. "I explained Tony to the students I teach. I've been explaining that police aren't just punishers but are also present in society to be helpers."

The light changed. Jim didn't answer. Instead he stepped on the gas pedal with force. Sweetheart leaped through the intersection. Jim pulled the truck close to the curb slamming on the brakes. Blair's eyes were wide. He gripped the shoulder belt tightly.

"Yeah," Jim snapped. "I know how some kids are." Tersely Jim spat the words out.

"Hey, Jim, what's the problem," Blair still couldn't believe that Jim who was a police officer drove like a maniac. Jim was already out of the truck. It was then that Blair saw the teenage boys. He looked from the old soldier to the boys. "Wait for me, Jim." Blair was out of the truck following Jim up the sidewalk. Blair hit speed dial to the police department dispatcher. Blair looked up for a street sign. "We need back up."

Jim's longer stride put him at the old soldier's side in a few quick steps. He glared at the advancing boys. "Do we have a problem here?"

Scowling the boys looked from their intended victim to Jim. "There are four of us, Creep."

"You're the ones who beat up Tim and Bill." The old soldier snarled. Anger was barely contained in the deep gravelly voice.

"Yeah," the obvious leader smirked. "And now we're going to add a girly boy and Mr. Nosy here to our score cards."

"That's Detective Nosy to you. Now all of you up against that stone wall." Jim directed.

Two of the boys bolted. Everyone was surprised when the old man swung his duffle bag letting it fly at the fleeing boys. The duffle bag hit one of the boys in the back of his legs. He pitched forward hitting the second boy causing him to stumble and fall. Both boys ended up in a tangle of arms and legs. Their metal bats were bouncing with loud rings on the sidewalk.

"That was cool!" Blair chuckled. Jim in the meantime had the other two boys up against the pink wall of Hattie's Second Hand Shop. "Call for backup, Chief," Jim said over his shoulder.

A police cruiser pulled up to the curb with a screech. "I already did, Jim." Blair was relieved that help had arrived so quickly.

"Detective Ellison," Officer Sanchez was out of his patrol car. "We got a call that some men were harassing a bunch of kids." His dark eyes reflected concern as he watched Jim handcuff the leader of the group of boys.

"Didn't you get my call?" Blair demanded.

"Read those two their rights," Jim snapped with authority. "We have the Baseball Bat Stalkers."

The old soldier listened with some satisfaction as the teenage boys were read their Miranda rights and handcuffed. Sanchez and Jim separated the boys. Another cruiser pulled up. Jim pushed the leader's head down as he placed the angry boy in the back seat of the second police cruiser. "Keep them apart at the station," he instructed the police officer.

"Don't tell them anything!" The boy kept shouting. Jim slammed the door shut. "Get him out of here."

Blair retrieved the duffle bag giving it back to the old man. "I know you." He studied the weathered face. "You were at Tony's funeral."

Gnarled hands accepted the worn dark duffle bag. "Tony was a good man." There was a soft exhale of breath. A brief pain of sadness crossed his face. "Tony took me over to a church shelter last Thanksgiving. Tony was always on the look out to see that I had a place to sleep especially when the weather got bad."

"Tony was like that." Blair's smile was sad as he remembered his friend. He extended his hand. "I'm Doctor Blair Sandburg. I'm a socioeconomic anthropologist. I also teach at Rainer University. Everyone just calls me Blair."

"That's a mouth full of words, Blair." With a surprising grip in spite of his arthritic hands the old man shook Blair's extended hand. "I'm Chuck Reilly."

"I'm afraid that you're not going to make it to a shelter tonight, sir." Jim's eyes flickered over the Master Sergeant chevron on the sleeve of Chuck's army jacket. "Maybe we could drop you at a shelter I know. I'm sure that they can let you spend the night."

Chuck smiled a little embarrassed. "I've got a little place now. It's not much. It's just a room at a dive of a motel but it's mine. I keep it regulation clean." He patted his duffle bag. "I've been spending the better part of this past month hitting every thrift store and army surplus store in Cascade. I'm putting together a decent uniform for the Fourth. Cascade is going to open the Freedom Memorial this Fourth. You know with bands, a parade and speeches, the whole shebang," he smiled.

"You were in the Army, Chuck?" Jim smiled. "I was a Ranger. I'm Jim Ellison. I was a captain in the Rangers."

"Figured that you were an officer," Chuck remarked dryly.

"Hey, Jim, we haven't had dinner yet." Blair jerked his head in Chuck's direction. "We could spring for sandwiches. Maybe Chuck here could join us."

"Look, I don't want to impose," Chuck protested.

"Master Sergeant, consider it a Captain's orders." Jim smiled. He gestured to his truck.

"I like the way you boys think." Chuck paused. His eyes took on a thoughtful look. "You know I knew an Ellison once. Hell of a good guy. He had the ears of a bat."

Jim and Blair exchanged startled looks.

"You know if it weren't for Teddy Ellison my platoon would have had their asses blown off." Chuck shook his head. "Hell of a shame that he never got home to his little boys."

"Was his name Theodore James Ellison?" Jim quietly asked.

"Your grandfather," Chuck nodded. "I thought that you favored him a might." Chuck smiled. "Are you Christopher's or William's son?"

TBC


	3. Chapter 3

Grateful Hero Chapter Three

Recognizing that I volunteered as a Ranger,

Fully knowing the hazards of my

Chosen profession

( Ranger's Code )

()()()()()

"You know what this means?" Blair was bouncing on the balls of his feet.

Jim took a swallow of coffee. "You babbled all last night, Chief." He rolled his eyes.

Instead of having his spirits dampened Blair only seemed to be energized. He crossed back over to the kitchen table. "Sentinel traits could be hereditary!"

"Yeah, Chief," Jim shoved a spoonful of scrambled eggs into his mouth. He glanced meaningfully at his wristwatch.

"You never mentioned your grandfather as having Sentinel abilities," Blair paused. "Oh yeah, Chuck said that your grandfather never made it back home from World War Two." Blair took a thoughtful swallow of his green algae shake. "Maybe I could talk to your father."

Jim slammed down his coffee cup on the table. "No. You're not talking to my father about my Sentinel abilities. It's out of the question." He glared at Blair. "Leave my father alone."

"All right, Jim," Blair studied Jim's hardened expression. "Gee, Jim, you know that I wouldn't do anything to upset your father."

Jim stood up picking up his empty plate. "Look, talk to Chuck. Just leave my dad alone. He's had a rough past couple of months. Between losing Sally and the prostrate surgery," Jim sighed. He set his dish in the sink. Running a hand through his thinning short-cropped hair Jim said, "Steve and I have been talking about our dad. I've been thinking of spending a couple nights a week with dad so that he wouldn't be alone at night."

"Oh man, I'm not a very observant anthropologist." Blair shook his head. "At Sally's funeral your father didn't let on that Sally was any more to him then a housekeeper. Why didn't you tell me that your father needed some help? You know I would do anything to help."

A sad smile tugged over Jim's handsome features. "Sally started out as 'just' a housekeeper. When my mother left," Jim sucked in a breath. "Sally sort of filled in. Steve used to wish that she'd marry dad. Of course she was married and went home to her own family every night."

Blair gave Jim's arm a reassuring squeeze. "She moved in with your dad a couple of years ago," he pointed out.

"Only after her husband died," Jim admitted. "My dad and Sally were just two old people who'd grown to be comfortable with each other." Jim took Blair's empty glass and set it in the sink.

"Jim, what about Uncle Christopher?" Blair inquired.

"He died before I was born. Uncle Christopher and dad had some kind of falling out. Uncle Christopher moved back east somewhere. He was a police officer from what my grandmother used to tell me. He died on the job." Jim looked thoughtful. "I remember a woman coming to the house late one night. I was supposed to be in bed. I heard what she was saying to my dad." He paused.

"Well," Blair demanded. He gestured impatiently with his hands.

"Her name was Ann no Amber. Amber Hunter," Jim nodded. "Apparently she had Uncle Christopher's illegitimate son."

"Jim, you have a cousin who might be a Sentinel." Blair brightened with excitement. "His father was a police officer like you. It could have been his Sentinel's instinct to protect his tribe."

"Whoa, Chief, WE don't know anything. Now, if WE don't hurry, I'm going to be late. Simon will have me walking harbor patrol." Jim was already grabbing his coat. He tossed Blair his leather jacket.

"Maybe I could look up your cousin on the Internet," Blair slipped on his leather jacket.

"Chief, I don't know his name." Jim was exasperated. He locked the door after them.

()()()

"Hey, Jim," Rafe greeted them as they entered Major Crimes' bullpen. "As soon as word got out that Chuck Reilly was testifying against those boys a half a dozen 'concerned citizens' stepped forward."

"Yeah, 'concerned' citizens always come forward after the fact." Jim sat down at his desk.

"Those boys are over eighteen. They're going to go away for a long time." Rafe handed Jim several files. "Henri and I are going to follow up on the teenage shoplifting ring. You get the runaway kid reports."

Jim looked alarmed, "Shoplifting, runaway kids. Those are family court cases not Major Crimes."

"Those were Tony's cases." Blair said softly. "I was helping him look for some of the runaway kids."

"Looks like you have a head start with the kids." Rafe turned away before Jim could protest.

"This is supposed to be Major Crimes not kiddy court," Jim shot an irritated look towards Simon's office.

"Tony thought that saving kids' lives was important enough to be included in Major Crimes," Blair picked up one of the files. "Although with some of the missing kids being girls we should look into the Travelers." Blair held up a bulletin. "Looks like the Travelers have arrived in Cascade. They are descendents of Irish peddlers. In some ways they are similar to Gypsies moving around in caravans but unlike Gypsies they rely completely on stealing and con games to survive. They are also a much more closed society."

Embarrassed Jim set the files on his desk. "We're not going to find these kids discussing subcultures, Dr. Sandburg." He spoke gruffly. Jim flipped open the top file. "Kids usually go home when they run out of money. Most are with friends unless there is a major problem at home." Jim punched the number that was listed as the parents' home phone number.

A couple of hours and several phone calls later Jim was able to update three of the files. "It looks like Miss Tina Savage was arrested in Portland." He set the phone back in it's' cradle. "Her parents are going to put her in drug rehab this time around." Jim frowned. "They should have done something when they first discovered that she was stealing money to buy pot."

"Jim, parents have different methods of raising children." Blair pointed out. He was well aware that Jim didn't think too highly of Naomi.

The phone rang. Jim picked it up trying not to think of his father and the way that he'd turned everything into a competition. "Ellison," Jim spoke into the phone.

"Detective Ellison, this is Officer Grey. I'm at your father's house."

Jim felt his heart almost stop. He vaguely recognized the voice on the other end of the phone. "Officer Grey, is my father all right?" Jim forced the words out trying to ignore horrifying scenarios going through his mind.

"Your father is a little upset," Officer Grey said cautiously.

"What happened?" Jim demanded. Blair mouth a question at Jim but Jim was too upset to recognize any words.

"It seems that your father caught his new housekeeper in the act of stealing."

"How badly was my father hurt?" Jim demanded.

"He's got a sprained wrist. One of his neighbors had fortunately come over to check on him. Perhaps you could come down here. Your father is still upset."

Jim recognized the unspoken cop speak for 'you're needed NOW'. "I'll be right there." Jim hung up. "Come on, Chief."

"What happened, Jim?" Blair grabbed his jacket off of the back of his chair.

"The new housekeeper tried to rob my dad." Jim responded grimly. "I may have to move my dad into my side of the loft. I can't let him go on living by himself."

"Jim, it's going to take several more weeks to finish fixing up the other apartment." Blair was almost at a run trying to keep up with Jim.

"Yeah," Jim sucked in a breath. "I know I promised you that you could turn the small bedroom under the stairs into your office. I'll have to figure something out. My dad isn't going to be alone any longer." Jim resolved.

()()()()()

William Ellison held the ice bag over his wrist. "I'm going to be fine. My son Jimmy will be here soon." He insisted.

The two paramedics exchanged guarded looks. "Mr. Ellison, you might want to reconsider. You are after all going to be alone."

Officer Grey looked outside. A familiar truck had screeched up to the curb. Relief was visible on his thin face. "It looks like Detective Ellison is here."

Both paramedics recognized Jim and Blair immediately. "All right," they started packing up their equipment.

"Dad," Jim almost ran to reach the door. He nodded at Officer Grey. "Thanks," Jim managed. Officer Grey nodded relieved that a 'sensible' adult was there to take charge. Jim's attention was on the scene in front of him. His father was sitting on the floor of the foyer. Paramedics having finished packing up their equipment were now helping William Ellison to his feet.

"He's got a bruised shoulder and a sprained wrist." Mike filled in quickly. "Keep an eye on him. It might be a good idea if someone stayed with him tonight. If your father develops any sudden pain bring him into the hospital right away. He might need x-rays to check on his collarbone for signs of fractures."

"I'm a grown man," William protested. "I don't need a babysitter." His light eyes were on his son. There was a faint look of hope mixed with fear on the elder Ellison's face. "Jimmy, Nora tired to take my retirement watch."

"Nora Wayne has been arrested." Officer Grey reassured Jim.

Jim looked at his father. Even with white hair and the passage of time adding lines to his face, his father was a handsome man. Tall and still lean with an aristocratic air William had attracted attention from several policewomen when he'd shown up at Tony's funeral. At the time it had annoyed Jim that women young enough to date him were attracted to his father. Now as he looked at his father Jim realized how old and frail his father looked. "You're coming home with me tonight, Dad." Jim's voice was firm. He expected a verbal fight. Jim wasn't going to let his father win. Jim had to protect his father.

Instead of protesting William sighed, "All right, Jimmy." He had a lost wistful expression as though he was a child discovering that he was about to lose his home. "Officer Grey said that I couldn't have my watch back yet." He pouted.

"Jim," Blair stood uncertainly at the doorway of the study. "We have to get back to the station. Chuck was robbed at the motel. He's at the station making a statement."

Scrubbing his face with a hand Jim thought for a moment. "Dad, you're coming with us. I'll sleep downstairs for tonight."

"Yes, Jimmy," William was smiling.

Blair ended up sandwiched between both Ellison men on the way back to the station. "I can't believe you knew Tony."

"I started going to the same church that Tony attended." William replied softly. "Tony was part of the ministry that checked in on the elderly." William let out a soft sigh. "He used to come by once a week and play chess with me." There was sadness in William's cultured voice. "Tony used to tell me about his 'kids'. He said that he had a calling to rescue kids."

Jim half turned his head to stare at his father. "Tony used to come by your house?"

"Sally would bake oatmeal raisin cookies or fresh banana bread for Tony." William stared ahead lost for a moment in memory. "We looked forward to his visits. It was like having family come to visit."

Guilt stabbed Jim through the heart. A guilty silence reigned in the truck.

()()()()

TBC


	4. Chapter 4

Chapter Four July 2-evening

Dear Lord,

Give me the greatness of heart to see the difference between duty and his love for me.

–Army Spouse prayer.

()()()()()()()()

"Thanks, Rafe," Jim took the box that contained an air mattress.

"It's comfortable," Rafe looked over to where Chuck and William were seated talking on the living room couch. A large bruise covered Chuck's forehead.

"I'll check with some friends to see if they have a room to rent. We'll find a home that is safe for Chuck."

"Hold off, Rafe. The way Chuck and my dad took to each other I was thinking that maybe the two of them could stay together until either I finish fixing up the next door apartment for Blair or think of something else." Jim set the box on the floor next to the door. "Want to come in and have some coffee?"

"I don't want to intrude," Rafe shook his head. There was an almost envious look on his face as Rafe's eyes went past Jim to look into the loft.

"Come on, Rafe," Blair came from the kitchen. "I made ostrich chill. There is plenty for everyone." An easy smile graced his face. "Why don't you stay for dinner?"

"Well," Rafe hesitated.

"Come on in, Son," Chuck had risen from the couch to get more coffee. "Dinner smells pretty good. It'll just be a bachelor night. You don't have a date do you?"

The spike in Rafe's heart rate surprised Jim. "Come on in, Rafe. At the very least I owe you dinner for lending us the air mattress." He moved back from the door to allow the younger man to come inside. "Besides Blair will no doubt like to show off the work we've been putting into his apartment."

Over dinner Chuck mentioned that he needed to get to an Army surplus store. "Those creeps ruined my dress shirt. I want to look good at the celebration."

"Nonsense," William spoke up. "Let's go shopping downtown. I know several shops that sell fine dress shirts."

"Uh, Dad," Jim tried to sound causal as he didn't want to hurt his father's feelings. "Chuck is putting together an Army dress uniform."

"I served under Major General Lucien Truscott during the second world war." Chuck said proudly.

William and Jim both looked surprised but it was William who spoke up first. "You served with the 3rd infantry? My father served with them. In fact in one of his letters he wrote that he was going to try to get into the first Army Ranger Battalion."

"Grandfather was going to be a Ranger?" Jim looked in surprise at his father.

"Teddy spotted that machine gun nest before anyone else did," Chuck said softly. He looked into his coffee cup as he recalled the memory. "He just ran straight for it. He was firing away. Teddy took out most of the enemy soldiers before they got him. We would have been massacred if he hadn't taken them out."

"Mother gave his entire collection of letters to me when I was nine. She said that I was growing up to be the spitting image of my father." William gripped his coffee cup tightly. "I never really knew him. I was only five when he died." He raised his eyes when he felt Jim's hand on his shoulder. "I still have all the letters that my father wrote packed away."

"Dad, you never told me about the letters," Jim almost frowned at his father. He felt more than a little annoyed that his father had kept information about his grandfather from him.

Blair laid a hand on Jim's arm. "It must have been hard to only know your father through letters." He felt a twinge of jealousy. "Naomi doesn't know who my father is." Chuck gave him an odd look.

"I only read a couple of them," William sighed in regret. "Christopher and I got into an argument about the letters." Unhappiness crossed his aristocratic face at the memory. "He wanted to share our father's letters at a Veteran's Day Memorial. I didn't want to share the only thing I had of our father so I told him that I burned them." William's face colored in embarrassment.

Jim couldn't believe what his father was saying. "Dad, why would you do something like that?"

William looked more uncomfortable. "Your grandmother, my mother raised us the only way that she knew how to make us strong men. She raised us to compete against each other. I wanted to 'win' the letters from him. Of course he knew that I as lying. Chris always knew when I lied."

Jim and Blair exchanged meaningful looks.

Continuing William didn't notice the looks that passed between Jim and Blair. "We got into a fight. Chris was bigger and older. I ended up on the bottom getting a good thrashing. Mother heard us. She broke it up." William looked unhappy. "When she took my side Chris ran upstairs, packed his things and left. He never came back. I was too proud to go looking for him when I got older. I didn't even know that he'd written Mother." William shook his head at the memory. "It broke her heart several years later when she learned that Chris died on duty as a police officer. " William's smile was sad. "Now, Son, you know why I was so upset to learn that you'd become a police officer."

"Dad," Jim said gently. "You have to accept the choices people make." He put his arm around his father. "I could just as easily step off of a curb and get hit by a car."

"Or a garbage truck," Blair said softly.

July 3rd

The Lord knows the way I take

And he has tested me

I shall come forth as gold…Job 23:10

()()()()()()()()

"Rafe, did your girlfriend say why she wanted to break it off?" Blair leaned against the counter as they waited for the waitress to bring their order.

Several feet away from them Henri and Jim were seated at a picnic table. Henri was showing his bandaged covered arm to Jim.

Looking miserable Rafe replied to Blair's question. "Juliet doesn't want to marry a cop. She wants me to quit the force."

"A woman who can't accept you for who you are is the wrong woman for you." Blair gently pointed out.

"I know, Blair," Rafe placed several more paper napkins in the takeout box that held two stuffed pitas. "My mother said the same thing." He sighed softly. "Right now I just want to make it through the next couple of days. I had to take Henri to the hospital once to get a tetanus shot after that last Traveler we picked up bit Henri on the arm."

The waitress returned with two more stuffed pitas and four lidded Styrofoam cups filled with hot coffee. Blair paid the bill. "Gees, I didn't think that the Travelers were so dangerous. With my research so focused on South America then on police culture," he paused to take a breath. "I haven't done much research into the Traveler subculture. The closest I ever got was trying to flirt with Bridget Murphy. Her brother was very protective." Blair grimaced at the memory. "He tossed me up against a wall and told me his sister was engaged."

"Blair, you have no idea how dangerous that the family is," Rafe limped towards his partner.

While the four men ate Jim placed a call to his father. Blair listened to Jim's side of the conversation. Rafe and Henri were in a deep discussion on whether or not they would be able to convince Simon that the family of con artists was dangerous enough to warrant adding extra manpower to stop them.

"All right, Dad, Blair and I will be there for dinner by eight," Jim reluctantly flipped his cell phone closed. "Dad and Chuck are staying at Dad's tonight. We're going over for dinner. It seems that a friend of Dad's is coming over."

"So I heard," Blair set his half eaten pita down. "Maybe Chuck should move in with your dad. They could take care of each other."

"Two elderly men would be targets for the Travelers," Henri interjected. "The Travelers run house painting and driveway paving scams. They use intimidating methods and fast talk to get elderly people into letting them work on their property. Between using shoddy materials and stealing they take a lot of money from their elderly victims."

Jim looked thoughtful. "Wasn't a Shane Murphy arrested a few years back for running a roofing scam?"

"Same family," Rafe announced gloomily. "This is the next generation. They're younger and branching out into other areas of crime."

"Rafe, you and Henri should stop off to talk to Simon," Jim advised both fellow detectives. "Jack Pendergrast almost got his head torn off by Shane Murphy." Jim's face darkened at the memory.

"I heard that IA didn't like the way that you twice instructed Shane on how to get into the back of a patrol car." Henri quipped.

Jim grinned sheepishly. "He just couldn't seem to duck his head."

A skinny street hard looking woman with pink and blond dyed hair approached the small group of men. "Detective Ellison," she paused. In spite of the warm day the woman shivered.

"Pink, you should dress warmer," Jim tilted his head as he studied the skinny young woman. He knew from having arrested her several times that 'Pink' Lois Ember was only twenty years old. Three years of living on the street had aged her. She could have been thirty. Tracks on her arms suggested that she was a drug user. Her white halter top and short shorts hung loosely on her bony frame.

Jim could smell the faint odor of illness on the woman.

"I've got to make a living," Pink scowled. "Word on the street is that you want to know about some runaway girls."

Jim nodded. He fished for his wallet. "Where, Pink? There are two of them. Cindy Lane and Heather Turner are seventeen." Pink's runny eyes were on the wallet that Jim had taken out of his pocket. She licked her lips. "Cindy went with some new guys in town. They pick up kids and get them to shoplift. Heather wanted no part of them. She ran off before the guys could drag her into their Mercedes."

Jim took out a twenty and a small white card. "Pink, I want you to stay off the street. If I catch you selling it while you're sick I'm going to bust you." Jim warned.

"How am I going to eat?" She demanded.

"Here's a twenty for the information. Take this card to the health clinic on Seventh Street. You'll get treated for free." Jim handed Pink the money and the card. "I mean it about not selling while you're sick."

"I don't have rent money," Pink pouted. She snatched both card and money from Jim's hand.

"Grapevine Ministries will give you a place to stay," Henri spoke up. Compassion reflected in his dark eyes. "You can register with them for a week or two at a time."

Pink considered all the information. "All right I'll give it a try." She tucked the money and card in her short's pocket. "You might want to look for Heather around the warehouse district. I ran into Candy Lad this morning. He says that he saw a new kid hiding around there." She walked away from them.

"She's sick?" Both Henri and Rafe were looking at Jim with interest.

Blair almost choked on his coffee. "It's obvious, guys. She's too thin. Her eyes have that sick look." Blair stammered. "She was cold. You know when someone is sick and they have that aura of sickness around them?"

"She smells sick," Jim calmly picked up his trash. "We'd better let Simon know that we're going to work together on this."

Blair grabbed Jim's arm as Henri and Rafe walked to their car. "Jim, be careful. You'll give yourself away." He warned.

Jim only shrugged. "I trust Rafe and Brown."

"I thought that you were worried about people knowing about your Sentinel abilities." Blair whispered as they made their way to Jim's blue and white Ford pickup.

"Not fellow officers," was Jim's only reply.

Simon was very unhappy to discover that the Travelers were picking up runaways. "We know that they prey on the elderly and the lonely. I've gotten a bulletin that they're using teens to sell magazines door to door." He rubbed his ebony forehead. "Apparently they promise these kids all kinds of money and don't deliver. Usually they abandon the kids in some way out of place. That's after the kids have earned them money. The Travelers go back to rob the houses they've cased out while 'selling' magazine subscriptions." Simon had a disgusted unhappy look on his face.

"According to the bulletin they also took a couple of underage girls with them when they left their last area."

"Wives," Blair interjected. Everyone looked at him. "I called a friend who is doing a study on the Travelers. It's not easy I might add."

"Get to the part about the underage girls being wives," Simon leaned back in his chair. The leather chair creaked with his weight shift.

Blair gestured with his hands. "Girls as young as five are provocatively dressed up and paraded around in front of a large gathering. The men are encouraged to pick out the girls they want as wives. Then the girls as young as legally allowed are married off to men sometimes in their thirties and forties."

"So these girls are being taken as future wives?" Simon looked disgusted.

We have to find these girls before they're taken to the Traveler home base." Blair wrinkled his forehead in thought. "It'll be harder to find them once they disappear into the family as wives." Blair looked grim.

"The FBI is following the group that took the missing girls. This group that headed up here is a splinter group." Simon looked at his detectives. "Pull Rundle, Chandler, and Gordon to help you. I'm going to have the media blitz pictures of Heather and Cindy all over the news. Find them."

Jim and Blair headed to the ware house district.

They hadn't driven long when a tall transvestite dressed in a skin tight neon yellow dress complete with a feather boa flagged them down, "Yoo-hoo." Her falsetto voice got Jim's attention, "over here, Detective Jim."

Pulling the truck over to the curb Jim greeted Candy Lad. "What are you doing hanging around here, Candy? This isn't your usual haunt."

There was a flutter of false eyelashes. "I work down here, Detective Jim," Candy giggled in a falsetto tone. "I haven't turned a trick in four months. I'm a receptionist at Ken's Auto Repair." He wiggled his behind. "Ken doesn't want me working the streets anymore."

"Just be careful, Candy," Jim warned. He didn't mention that he'd had to kick in a door and rescue Candy from an abusing boyfriend once before. Candy had been more emotionally devastated than physically hurt. "Now what do you know about a young girl hiding in this area?"

"CANDY!" A behemoth of a man lumbered out of one of the storefronts. Two mechanics dressed in dark blue coveralls stood in the open attached car repair garage. One just shook his head and then went back to working on a car with a raised hood.

"Uh, Jim," Blair checked to make sure that his door was locked.

"Oh, Ken baby," Candy pranced on his three inch bright yellow heels to meet the arriving angry looking man. "This is Detective Jim. He's the one who save me from that brut Mark." Candy flashed a smile at Ken. "Detective Jim is looking for that poor little girl who is hiding near the old storage place." He laid his long neon green painted nails on Ken's massive chest.

Blair peered around Jim. "Do you think that he knows that Candy is a guy?" He whispered.

Ken wrapped a protective arm around Candy. They approached the truck. "Candy left a basket of food for the girl and the others that are hiding three streets over. They're using the old Ram Storage as a flop. The kid looks like someone worked her over. We can't get any of them to trust us." Ken eyed Blair peering around Jim. A wide grin appeared on Ken's bearded face. "Candy and I are having a commitment ceremony next Wednesday. She's told me a lot about you but apparently not everything. You're both invited."

"Commitment ceremony," Jim smiled. "If I can I'll be there."

Ken winked slyly. "You can doll her up if you want. I know that you have to keep a low profile at work." Ken slapped Candy on the rump. Candy let out an appropriate squeal. "Come on, Candy, I've got to make us a living."

Blair's mouth dropped open. As they pulled away he demanded. "Does he think that I'm," he sputtered.

"I guess that you got the answer to your question," Jim chuckled. He drove in the direction that Ken had pointed out.

More and more graffiti and broken windows appeared on the warehouses that they passed. An air of abandonment hung over the deteriorating section of the warehouse district that they were driving through. Blair spotted something dark and furry dart away from a dumpster. "That rat was the size of a cat!"

"I wouldn't doubt it," Jim slowed the truck. "Rats jump off of ships in the harbor. They make their way up here and then spread out through Cascade." He stopped the truck in front of a warehouse that bore the legend, RAM Storage. Someone had painted the ram's eyes red and added smoke coming out of the ram's nostrils.

Jim got out of the truck pulling his badge out.

"Jim, they're not going to trust you. You're a cop." Blair slid out of the truck.

Jim held up his badge. "You're not safe here. There is a shelter that has safer places for you to sleep. You can call your parents if you want to." With his heightened sense of hearing Jim could hear the rapid beating of three hearts.

"You're not in any trouble. I'm a cop. I only want to help you."

Timidly a young disheveled looking girl came to the half open door. Both of her eyes were blackened. Her lower lip was swollen and split. "Are you really a police officer?" She was on the verge of tears.

"Yes." In the next instant three sobbing girls were plastered against Jim. It was then that Jim was aware of a tiny heartbeat. Mentally he cursed. As gently as he could he called out to Blair. "Call Rafe and have him come down so that we can get these young ladies to a doctor."

All three stiffened. "Who's Rafe?" The pregnant girl pulled back.

"Another detective," Jim explained in a soft voice.

"Do you know Ken? He's a little hard to miss," Blair flashed a friendly smile. "He's Candy's boyfriend. Candy's the one who left you food." Blair was dialing the number he remembered seeing on the glass window of the storefront that Ken had walked out of. "I'll call him. He and Candy can vouch for us."

Jim kept his arms protectively around the three girls. "We need to get you checked out by a doctor," he said gently.

Three heads nodded. They clung to Jim as they waited.

It was later that evening at his father's house that Jim recounted the story. He accepted another refill on his coffee from Chuck. "Heather's parents are flying up from San Diego to pick her up. They sounded like pretty okay parents. Heather just fell into the wrong crowd. They're prepared to help Heather with her baby. She says that she wants to keep it."

Master Sergeant Brent Storm shook his head. "If I was her father I'd want five minutes alone with whomever it was that worked her over."

"Actually it was a group of girls that jumped them." Blair picked up Jim's empty plate. He and Chuck were picking up the empty dinner dishes from the table.

"It was the Sea Hags," Jim wearily rubbed his tired face. "All three girls identified the Sea Hags. Simon issued warrants for their arrests. Most of the Sea Hags are over eighteen." He shook his head. "The girls crossed into the Sea Hag territory. Female gangs are becoming as violent as some of the male gangs."

Shock registered on William's face, "Young ladies running around the streets fighting?"

"The world is getting to be different from your day, Dad." Jim sipped his hot coffee.

"Not really so different," Blair returned from the kitchen with several desert plates. "In ancient Japan for instance young abandoned girls were gathered up and trained as assassins."

Chuck carried in a chocolate cream custard pie. "I could tell you tales of a spunky little Georgia gal." He chuckled at the memory. "Helen taught me to make the best custard pies and how to shoot straight. She's the reason I was a top marksman in the army."

"So what happened to Helen?" Blair inquired. He grinned knowingly at Chuck.

"I married Helen after the war. Bless her sweet soul. Helen put up with me for thirty years. She passed away two years ago," Chuck sighed. "I went out and got drunk. I've been drunk ever since until six months ago."

"Did you have any children," William asked his new friend.

"Alan and Amanda," Chuck sounded wistful. "Guess I've been too ashamed to call them. I miss my grandkids. My set of twins married a set of twins. I've got four grandchildren or at least two years ago I only had four grandchildren." Chuck sat down. He passed the pie to Jim to cut.

"If you gentlemen will excuse me for a minute," Storm rose from the table. "I forgot something in my car. I'll be right back."

Jim shot his father a quizzed look. William only gave him a look that meant 'wait and see.'

"Maybe you could call your children now," Blair helped himself to a slice of pie.

Master Sergeant Storm returned carrying a garment bag and a small bag. "Master Sergeant Charles Reilly. No member of the Army shows up dressed in surplus clothes to any Fourth of July celebration." He handed the garment bag to Chuck.

It was with trembling hands that Chuck unzipped the bag. "A Master Sergeant's uniform," his tone was hushed and reverent. Chuck's gnarled hands gently caressed the pristine uniform.

"Thanks, Dad," Jim quietly told his father. William beamed. "Thanks, Master Sergeant," Jim rose to shake the hand of the tall lean Army Master Sergeant.

"I owe the Ellison family," Storm smiled as he shook Jim's hand. "William told me that the Master Sergeant would need to look his best when he read one of Lieutenant Theodore Ellison' letters." He held out the smaller bag to Chuck, "Dress shoes."

"Mr. Ellison, you're going to let Chuck read one of your father's letters?" Blair inquired of the elder Ellison.

"It's about time," William said. For a moment he looked sad. "I only wish that I'd let Chris have his share of the letters."

()()()()

TBC


	5. Chapter 5

Chapter Five—July 4th

Don't weep for me

O'land of the free

When it was my time to fall

'Twas for my country's call

(-The Fallen Soldier by Patricia Krull)

()()()()()()

"You didn't have to ride with me," Jim looked up at the younger man. He winched as the doctor gently cleaned the human bite on his wrist. "Blair, you could have gone with Chuck and Dad to the opening of the Memorial."

"We're partners, Jim," Blair looked pale. He kept his eyes averted from what the doctor was doing.

"It's a good thing that your tetanus shoot is up to date." Doctor Row carefully bandaged the now clean wound. "Human bites are notoriously bad. The human mouth has a lot of bacteria." He pulled a pen out of his pocket and scribbled a prescription on a prescription pad. "I'm going to give you a prescription for an antibiotic that you've taken before. With your delicate system I want to ward off any infection." He turned to Blair. "Keep an eye on Jim. Any sign of an infection bring this stubborn man in."

Blair nodded. "I'll watch over him." He protectively tightened his grip on Jim's shoulder.

Jim smiled half amused and half comforted by Blair's declaration. A thought occurred to Jim. "Doc, did Pink come into see you?"

A troubled look came over the doctor's face. "I guess that you hadn't heard." He sighed looking all his forty-five years. "Poor little thing," he shook his head. "It was the hazards of her trade. She managed to crawl to the Grapevine Ministries' Shelter about midnight. Pink died an hour later. I'm sorry."

A stony mask slipped over Jim's face. "I see," it came out more harshly then he'd intended.

Doctor Row wasn't fooled. He calmly handed the written prescription to Blair. "Stop at the hospital pharmacy for Jim's prescription. Most of the pharmacies in Cascade are closed today. Why don't you take a few minutes in the chapel before you head out?" He quietly started to leave.

"Wait," Jim took a breath. "If no one claims Pink call me. I'll arrange her burial."

"Grapevine Ministries is going to take care of her burial. However," Dr. Row added. "The headstone is an expense that they can't afford."

"I'll take care of it," Jim said firmly.

Blair gently massaged Jim's shoulder. "I'm sorry about Pink."

Jim nodded. "I know that I can't get them all off of the street." He let out a sigh. "Let's get back to the station and fill out our paperwork. At least with all the information we gathered from Cindy, Heather and the tapes from the stores this group of Travelers isn't going to be doing any more crime in Cascade for a long time."

Jim and Blair arrived to find a television playing in the Major Crimes bullpen. Several detectives were watching the ceremony. "You missed your dad introducing Master Sergeant Reilly," Rafe had his printed report in his hands.

"I'm recording it," Blair pulled up a chair by Jim's desk.

On the television screen the audience was applauding. Henri walked back to his desk. "Jim, are you going to go by the beach to watch the fireworks? The fireworks are supposed to be spectacular this year."

"Too noisy," Jim shook his head. "Besides it sounds too much like a battle to me," Jim went to his desk. Henri and Rafe exchanged meaningful looks. Most of the bullpen was aware that Jim had served in the Army Rangers. Everyone quietly went back to work.

It was much later when Jim and Blair pulled up in front of the new 'Freedom Memorial'. For a moment they sat in the pickup. Stars filled the clear night sky. A gently breeze stirred in the warm night. Lights set in the ground shone on the slabs of black marble that stood arranged in a semi circle. A few people were quietly walking around the Memorial. Two uniformed guards stood watching the visitors.

"Thanks for coming with me, Chief," Jim said softly.

"I'm your friend, Jim," Blair answered just as softly.

Jim got out of the truck. He walked through the Memorial passing each slab. The largest one was dedicated to the War of Independence. The black marble slab stood in the center of the semi circle. Like all the rest of the Memorial slabs it had been cut at an angle at the top. Jim's sensitive fingertips traced over the words of the Declaration of Independence carved into the cool marble. Blair stood quietly at his side.

Several people passed them. A teenage girl noticed them. She followed as they walked to the marble dedicated to World War Two. Jim paused to trace his fingertips over his grandfather's name. He straightened his shoulders and walked over to another marble memorial.

Blair was amazed that Jim found a name or two on each of the more recent memorial slabs. More visitors drifted through the memorial. A number caught sight of Jim. His photograph had been on the early and late night news. He was Cascade's own hero.

Noticing the growing number of visitors around him Blair looked at his watch. "Jim, there are going to be fireworks over the Memorial in five minutes," Blair warned.

"Just one more," Jim answered. He walked to a much smaller memorial. Bravo Team was carved on the marble. Jim silently stood before the list of his men. The teenage girl who'd been silently following them came forward to stand at Jim's side.

A Cascade news van pulled up in front of the Memorial. The reporter was hoping for a final shot to include on his report for the morning's news. Fireworks usually guaranteed air time. He noticed the crowd and finally Jim. A smile quickened on the reporter's face. He hurried over with a cameraman in tow.

Jim had stepped forward. Carefully he traced his fingertips over the carved names of his each of his team and the helicopter pilots. When he was finished Jim reached into his jacket pocket. He removed a small box. Kneeling down Jim placed seven silver stars on the ground in front of the Memorial to his men. Standing up he saluted them.

"You're Captain Ellison," the teenager looked up at Jim.

Jim looked at the young woman. An old worn looking Army jacket hung over her slender shoulders. The name Brothers was stenciled on the pocket of the jacket. "You're Diana Brothers," Jim smiled. "You're Mark's daughter."

Diana nodded. She reached up to touch an Army dog tag that hung on a silver chain around her neck. "I'm going to be a student of Rainier University this fall. When I heard about the Memorial I came up early."

Neither Jim nor Diana noticed the reporter or his microphone.

"Your father was a good pilot and a good man." Jim drew in a breath of the night air. "He made every effort to try and save us after we were hit by a missile."

Blair was aware of the growing crowd and the reporter. Minutes were ticking towards midnight and the fireworks display. "Jim," he whispered. "The fireworks are going to be going off."

"How did he die?" Diana looked up at Jim.

Jim having heard Blair had stared dialing his hearing down. "Mark and Pete knew that if we went down hard everyone would die. You hit the ground with enough force and spines snap." Jim drew in a breath not noticing the reporter or the growing listening crowd.

"Mark and Pete managed to maneuver the dying Huey in the trees. We broke branches going down." Jim's eyes were distant as he again heard the screams of both his men and the dying Huey. "I remember hearing someone praying the 91st Psalm. There was the metallic scream of the Huey, the sounds of trees snapping, and the smell of fire. The Huey was spiraling down. Then everything was dark and silent. When I woke up I was laying on someone. It was Ramirez. He'd been burned to death by the fire when the missile hit us. I had cracked ribs. Somehow three of us survived. I was the least hurt. I carried everyone out."

Jim looked down into Diana's tear filled eyes. "If your father and Pete hadn't made the decision to use all of their strength to put the Huey into the trees, we'd have all been killed on impact. Your father gave his life to save us. I never got the chance to thank him." Jim leaned down and gently kissed Diana's forehead. "Thank you."

The pressure on Jim's back from Blair's hand was all the warning Jim got to dial his hearing to zero as the first of the fireworks exploded overhead. Jim blinked against the flash of light. He didn't hear the applause. Dialing down his eye sight Jim looked up. More fireworks were exploding over the Memorial.

Diana leaned against him crying. Blair warped an arm around Jim's waist. They all stood together. Jim and Blair watched the fireworks overhead. "I don't think that I've ever liked fireworks as much as I do now." Jim was unaware that the sensitive microphone held by the silent reporter had picked up all his words.

The feeling of the presence of others caught Jim's attention. He looked around. As the fireworks lit up the Freedom Memorial he thought he saw seven other men. Jim blinked and they were gone. He shook his head thinking that he'd imagined it. Diana snuggled against him. Blair stood silently looking skyward.

The reporter was now quietly adding a few words to his report knowing he'd scored a piece that would be seen by most of Cascade in the morning.

The next morning the major news networks picked up the film report of Jim and the fireworks. Included was the photograph that appeared in the Cascade newspaper. A resourceful photo editor had manipulated the photo of Jim kissing Diana's forehead so that it appeared that Jim and Diana were standing alone in front of the Memorial with fireworks exploding over them. He titled it A Hero's Gratitude. The editor would take credit for adding the ghostly images of the seven soldiers standing at attention. He never told anyone that he had nothing to do with the addition. They had appeared in the final print.

THE END

()()()()()()()()

Author's notes: A story on the Travelers appeared on Sixty Minutes. A news report on the growing violence of girl gangs was the basis of the Sea Hags. The Army Rangers made their first appearance during World War Two.


End file.
